Castiel and the Seven Angels
by Synthea Black
Summary: Once upon a time, there lived a lovely Prince named Castiel. His vain and wicked stepfather, the King, feared some day Castiel's power would surpass his own. So he hid the little Prince and kept him away from those loyal to him. Each day, the King consulted his Magic. As long the Mirror answered, "You are the ruler of them all," Castiel was safe from the King's cruel jealousy.
1. i'm wishing

Once upon a time, there lived a lovely little Prince named Castiel. His vain and wicked stepfather, the King, feared some day Castiel's power would surpass his own. So he hid the little Prince and kept him away from those loyal to him. Each day, the King consulted his Magic Mirror: "Magic Mirror on the wall, who is the ruler of them all?" As long the Mirror answered, "You are the ruler of them all," Castiel was safe from the King's cruel jealousy.

* * *

The castle was made of white sandstone. It was set on a hill in between the sea and the town. In a beautiful area of the country, the small kingdom was ruled by a merciless King. Come to power after the Queen passed, King Lucifer was ruthless and cruel, ruling with an iron fist. Though he had full control of the country that lay out on the valley below, the allegiance of the populace sat with his stepson, Castiel. Ever in fear of this, the King would summon his trusted advisor.

The King climbed the steps, his velvet cloak flowing out behind him. He stood in front of the ornate Mirror, framed by foreign symbols.

He spread his arms wide and spoke. "Slave in the Magic Mirror," he could see his dark reflection in the glass before him as he crossed his arms, "come from the farthest space." The King threw his arms out once more. "Through wind and darkness I summon thee." A sudden gust of wind blew the King's cloak out behind him. A thunderclap shook the tower. "Speak!" he yelled, "Let me see thy face."

The mirror was then engulfed in flames. The glass seemed to burn before him. And then, it was gone. The fire was extinguished. And in its place was a ghastly countenance.

It spoke, its voice low and guttural. "What wouldst thou know, my King?" it asked.

"Magic Mirror, on the wall, who is the ruler of them all?" the King asked.

The Mirror stirred, its pale face glaring out from the glass. "Famed is thy rule, Majesty. But hold, a young prince I see. Servant's work cannot hide his inborn influence. Alas he has more power than thee"

The King's eyes grew wide and he spoke quickly, "Alas for him! Reveal his name!"

The Mirror seemed almost vexed, but continued, "Lips red as the rose. Hair black as ebony. Skin white as snow."

The King's eyes blazed with anger. "Castiel," he muttered under his breath.

* * *

Castiel never did mind working outside. He didn't feel as trapped when in the courtyards or stables. The fresh wind on his face, the sun on his skin. It made him feel more alive. It was a particularly beautiful day when he sat washing the steps in the east court. It was one of his favorite spots. The flowers were beautiful on this side of the castle. As they swayed in the wind around him, he couldn't help but hum as he cleaned.

By the time he reached the bottom stare, the doves had settled around him. They did this often and not finding him to be of any threat to them, circled around him to keep him company.

Castiel sighed before he stood. He threw the rest of the water from the pale at his side, washing the suds from the stone. He soon turned and walked to the well. The veins had crept around the old thing for years, but the flowers had been a new addition. Castiel had never mentioned to the King, but he loved to garden and would find seeds to plant around the grounds. They had turned out quite delightful this spring.

He hummed some old tune under his breath as he admired them above his head, pulling up a fresh pale of water as he did. He stood for a moment, the doves settling once again around him.

"Want to know a secret?" he asked them.

They stared blankly at him for a moment, then seemed to nod.

"Promise not to tell?"

They nodded again.

"We are standing by a wishing well," he finished.

The birds looked down into the water then, now curious as to what the young Prince could be talking about.

Castiel continued the tale, the words falling into the melody from the old song he'd been humming. "Make a wish into the well. That's all you have to do. And if you hear it echoing, your wish will soon come true."

He leaned over the edge, feeling the cool air coming from the water below. "I'm wishing…" he sang.

The doves scattered as the words came echoing back.

"…for the one I love, to find me today."

A few of the brave ones scurried back to the lip of the well, listening to the to the two voices echo in harmony.

It just so happened, that right outside the castle walls, a prince from the neighboring kingdom was passing by. His black horse gleamed beneath him – his pride and joy. She carried herself with a regality almost lost in Castiel's realm. But this visiting prince was unaware of any feud between the King and Prince that were his allies. He had come for a quick visit, merely to discuss trade options with the King.

He had just come from the market down in the village when he heard one of the most beautiful voices he'd ever had the pleasure of hearing. He couldn't resist. He turned his steed towards the sound, coming upon a short wall overlooking the castle's east courtyard.

Standing by a well, was a young prince.

Of course, this visiting prince was looking upon Castiel, hidden away at his stepfather's command. Castiel, unaware of the other man's eyes, continued to sing.

"I'm hoping and I'm dreaming of…the nice things, he'll say."

The well echoed back his harmonies so pleasantly that the other man found himself climbing over the castle wall just to listen. He was quite confused as to why he'd never seen this young man around the castle beforehand. He'd visited King Lucifer many a time, yet this servant had remained unnoticed. He doubted that he'd ever overlooked the young man, as he was absolutely gorgeous. Though dressed in rags, his stunning looks were unquestionable.

As the foreign prince dwelled in his thoughts, Castiel continued his song to the doves.

"I'm wishing…" he sang, "for the one I love, to find me today."

As Castiel waited for the echo he was startled when it came in the form of a voice right next to him.

Castiel gasped in shock as he took in the view of the man beside him. Clearly a prince, the man was handsome and well dressed. His eyes shown like emeralds and his freckles were dark against his flawless complexion.

When he removed his hat, bowing and saying a greeting, Castiel was enraptured by his short, dark blond hair. Men of this area were usually dirty and had brown, scraggly hair. Castiel had a hard time not comparing this prince to an angel.

Castiel stepped back as the man approached him, barely registering that he introduced himself as _Dean_.

He apologized and said: "Did I frighten you?"

Castiel tried to form words, but he wasn't allowed visitors. He wasn't allowed to see anyone. Ever. The King strictly forbade it. The only people he could speak to were servants. And this man was obviously no servant.

And then suddenly, Castiel was running. He didn't know what else to do. His stepfather's wrath hung over him like a dark shroud.

The other man was shouting at him to wait, but he was just too frightened. Too worried of what the King would say. What the King would do. Oh, what the King would do.

The panic had him running all the way inside. As much as he wished to stay, it wasn't worth the risk. Right?

The visiting prince, _Dean_ , had begun to sing as Castiel climbed the tower stairs.

"Now that I've found you, hear what I have to say!"

Dean was shocked. He didn't sing. This wasn't what he did. But, he found himself doing so in an attempt to lure the young man from his tower. He hadn't meant to frighten him and he wished to soothe his nerves. Dean was sure he'd heard that tune before and continued on with his own words.

"One song, I have but one song. One song, only for you." Dean could see the servant winding his way up the staircase, and finally reaching the top, disappearing from view.

He tried, what seemed like in vain, to tempt the other out.

"One heart, tenderly beating, ever entreating, constant and true," he continued to sing, coaxed on when he saw the young man's head peak out from the curtained balcony.

Slowly, Castiel stepped out onto the balcony. Dean's voice was enticing. It wasn't perfect, but it matched him to a tee. It was gruff and deep, but also caring and mostly curious. Castiel leaned on the railing, content to listen to the other prince sing.

"One love, that has possessed me. One love, thrilling me through." Dean found himself thinking he would sing for hours if were able to see this young man looking at him the way he was right now. Leaning onto the stone railway, Dean could see the light of the sunlight shining in the other's blue eyes. They glowed like stars and they shown down on him from above.

But what the two princes didn't know, was that King Lucifer watched from above. From his tower, the King had an easy view of the east garden where he would watch Castiel do most of his chores. The King glared down at them. This would not be tolerated. Castiel knew the rules. The King would not stand for disobedience. He would not stand for anything good to be in his stepson's life. Princes included.

Dean, unaware of the King's watch, continued to sing one final line. "One song, my heart keeps singing of one love, only for you."

And Castiel, promising this was not the last the two would meet, shut the curtains.


	2. the prince

*Hey guys, I apologize for all the chapter updates and reposts. I dissatisfied with how the original chapter two turned out so I've been doing some editing. This chapter now contains the first half of the original chapter two and some extra stuff tacked on the end. This extra stuff was written to add more romance, a new scene with Dean and Cas (cuz you can never have enough of those), and to clear up any confusion from the original chapter. Again, sorry if it's confusing! I'm much happier with this version than I was before*

* * *

Sam walked into the pub with heavy steps. He had not had a good day. The King was in a worse mood than when they'd lost trade with the Western Shore. He didn't quite understand why the King was acting the way he was, but he thought it had something to do with the young Prince. Not many still talked about the air to the thrown and Sam was sure that's exactly what the King wanted. When Castiel became of age, Lucifer would lose all his power. Lately, any mention of the royal line would get the King riled up. Sam guessed that Castiel's eighteenth birthday was right around the corner.

Sam rubbed at his brow. It was hot in the bar, mostly due to the large bonfire in the center. He scanned the area for his brother and frowned when he didn't see him. Usually, Sam could find Dean there every night when he was visiting, drunk off his ass with a woman on each arm. He looked around, wincing through the smoky air.

Finally, Sam caught sight of him in one of the back corners. Sam rolled his eyes when he noticed instead of flirting at the center of the pub, his brother had taken to teasing the waiter instead. As he approached the two he formulated a good, embarrassing one-liner to scare the other guy away.

But the taunt stuck in his throat when he realized there was no romantic interaction among the two at all. Dean was just being friendly. And after years of living with him, Sam knew the difference. They were exchanging simple stories and when Dean finished his drink the waiter was off.

Sam sat down across from Dean, feeling uneasy.

"Heya, Sammy!" Dean beamed at him. He thanked the waiter with another grin when his ale was refilled to the brim.

"Hey, Dean," Sam replied. "Are you…feeling alright?" he asked. This was an extremely rare occasion. Dean was only ever this happy when he'd just gotten an exceptionally hot woman into bed with him or he'd done something extremely stupid that Sam would have to deal with later. The latter seemed somewhat reasonable, but Sam hadn't seen his brother all day so he was at a loss.

"Yeah, man," Dean said. "I feel great!" He leaned back and chugged at his drink, slamming it down now half empty.

And then Sam knew. He sighed, "Who is she?"

"What?" Dean asked, shocked by Sam's question.

"The girl you're smitten with. What's her name?" Sam asked. There was no other explanation. Dean was interested in someone, more than a one-night stand that was for sure. Sam hadn't seen him grin this much since their visit to the Sunrise Mountains and he'd met Duchess Cassie.

Dean hesitated. His grin had melted almost instantly. He wore an uneasy expression when he softly said, "He."

"Oh really?" Sam raised his eyebrows. That was definitely rare. Dean rarely went after guys, especially when it had to do with actual relationships. "What's _his_ name then?"

Dean's cheeks reddened. "He works in the castle gardens. His name's Castiel."

Sam registered this information as he was stealing a drink of Dean's ale. When he heard the name Castiel, he choked in surprise. It couldn't be the same person, could it? But then, how many people in the kingdom were named Castiel?

Dean noticed his reaction and continued, "Yeah, I know it's a weird name. I said the same thing."

Sam stared at his brother, completely deaf to what he was blabbering about. The King had banned the Prince to see anyone besides servants. That definitely meant he wasn't allowed to see Dean. Had the two been sneaking around together? And for how long? Did the King know? Sam felt a shiver run up his spine. He really hoped King Lucifer didn't know.

"Dean," Sam started, "Where did you meet Castiel?"

Dean stopped mid-sentence. He'd been chattering on about something that Sam hadn't been interested in. "I told you, I met him in the castle gardens."

"The East Gardens?" Sam asked.

Dean paused, but then nodded.

Sam felt himself pale. "Castiel isn't a servant, Dean. That's the Prince. How long have you been seeing each other?"

"Wait, what do you mean the Prince?" Dean asked, incredulously. "He was working in the gardens. He wore rags."

Sam suppressed an angry growl, pinching the bridge of his nose. Leave it to his brother to fall in love with the secret prince. Dean was always there to make Sam's life that much more difficult. Sam loved his brother, but every time he came to visit, Sam was sure trouble would follow. Dean had been here for simple trade bargaining, but the trip just kept growing longer and longer. Sam wanted to kick himself when he realized that Castiel was probably the reason Dean kept extending his trip abroad. Quickly, Sam relayed the information about Castiel's past and his relationship with the King. As Sam talked, the color drained from Dean's face. By the time Sam was done, Dean was the same color as the wash linen.

"That's absolutely heinous!" Dean yelled. "I won't stand for it."

Dean moved to push back his chair to leave, but Sam stopped him. "Dean, you going and yelling at the King will only make things worse for Castiel. He could already be in trouble."

That seemed to quell Dean's anger, and he sat back down with a _thump_.

"Now, how long have you been seeing him?" Sam asked.

"We talked the second day that I was here," Dean said.

Sam missed the whimsical look on his brother's face when he yelled, "Dean you've been here for over a month!"

"And it's been a great month," Dean smiled.

Sam rubbed at his temples and groaned. He was having a bad day when he came into the bar, but now his day was just horrible.

* * *

Castiel had never been happier. He'd met Dean only a month ago, but he'd never felt his life change so much. Dean had come to visit him as often as he could, meaning almost every day. The first time Castiel fell behind on his chores he was frustrated. The second time, he decided they weren't important. Washing the garden stones didn't make him happy. Cleaning the well didn't make him happy. But seeing Dean…that always brought a smile to Castiel's face.

When Dean started to come more often, Castiel insisted he come later in the day, and eventually, they only met at night. Castiel used the excuse that he many chores to do around the castle, but this wasn't the case. He was still afraid that his stepfather would find out. The King had eyes everywhere, especially in his own castle. Castiel was terrified that once the King found out, Castiel would be forbidden to see the other prince.

So, they took to meeting after the sun had gone down. Castiel would stay out in the garden until the sunset, and soon he would hear the familiar sound of Dean's boots on the cobblestones. He would gracefully hop the wall and come to sit beside Castiel. Neither of them would say anything for a while, both of them looking at the stars. Once the haze wore off, they would start with occasional whispers. Dean would point out a star and Castiel, always enthralled by the sky, would tell him its name. Castiel would comment on the weather and Dean would quietly tell him about his homeland.

It made Castiel's heart ache, listening to tales of the land beyond the walls around him. Though they'd known each other a short time, Dean would notice the sorrow on his face and hesitantly reach for his hand. Castiel could feel his gloominess leak away as the warmth from Dean's hand seeped into him. A small smile would form on his lips and Dean would start talking about feasts until Castiel had forgotten there was a world outside of the man in front of him.


	3. my faithful huntsman

*** PLEASE READ***

Previous readers, before reading this new chapter, please go back and re-read the second half of chapter 2. I've added a whole new section to help make the events clearer. There is more romance and some interaction between Dean and Castiel that wasn't in the previous chapter. This new chapter also includes a similar scene and has the rest of the original chapter 2. I'm sorry if this is confusing. I wasn't satisfied with how the original chapter 2 ran, and I think it flows a lot easier now and is much more fun to read! Enjoy!

* * *

Dean stayed for quite a long time that night. They had gotten to talking about the sea. Castiel loved the sea. Unfortunately, since his parents had died, he'd not been allowed near it. Listening to Dean talk about his travels over the sapphire waters was captivating. He could have listened for hours without even realizing it, and he did. When the sun started to peak over the horizon, Castiel jumped to his feet, having been stretched out on the grass next to Dean.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Castiel looked around nervously. "You have to go," he said.

Dean stood as well and caught Castiel's gaze. "Is this because of your stepfather?"

Castiel froze. His blue eyes widened in shock.

Dean rubbed a hand behind his neck, looking sheepish. "Look, Cas, I'm not an idiot. I was gonna figure it out eventually," he said.

Castiel took a moment to process what had just happened then said, "I didn't want to keep anything from you, Dean. But you have to go. If you know about my stepfather, then you know I'm not allowed to see anyone." Castiel started to push Dean back to the stone wall he climbed almost every night.

Dean grabbed the hands that were shoving at his chest, "But I was an exception?"

Castiel looked up, his eyes filled with a silent plea.

They stared at each other for a time, neither wanting to give in to the other. And then Dean sighed, his eyes shut. He lent his forehead against Castiel's and took a deep breath. Castiel felt like he'd turned to stone. He could feel Dean's breath on his face. He could count every freckle on his nose. They'd been close before, but never like this. Castiel felt as though his chest would burst.

"Alright," Dean said, finally. Once the word had left his lips, so did his warmth. Dean was over the wall and gone before Castiel could even catch his breath.

* * *

The next day, Sam was feeling rather sick to his stomach. His mind was laden with worry. He was horribly loyal to King Lucifer. What was he going to do if he had to step in between him and Dean? Sam shook his head, trying to rid himself of the thoughts. The King had no way of knowing what was going on. It's not like he had constant eyes on Castiel.

Sam's shoulders slumped, because of course he did. The King barely let the young Prince out of sight. If he did, he must be under constant supervision. The King was paranoid about his throne. Though Castiel bid no ill will to anything, let alone his own kin, Lucifer was adamant about keeping Castiel away from everything and everyone.

Throughout the day, Sam kept finding himself thinking about it, and each time he would dismiss it as if it didn't exist.

But after a quick lunch, he came back to the castle to find that a page had been looking for him.

The King wanted to see him.

Sam's heart rammed in his chest. It could be nothing. The King summoned him all the time. Sam had a very high rank in the King's court and he liked to think that he was one of Lucifer's most trusted subordinates. Sam tried to calm his nerves, but by the time he reached King Lucifer's chambers, his palms were sweaty and shaky.

Sam entered the chamber to see Lucifer sitting on his throne at the back of the hall. The King looked up slowly as he approached, his deep-socketed eyes bore into him. Sam, like most of the times the King looked at him, felt like he was baring his soul.

"Ah, Huntsman," the King addressed him.

Sam sunk to one knee and bowed, "Your Highness."

"Oh, do stand, Sam," the King said impatiently, "I'm not in the mood for these trivialities."

Sam stood, waiting for the King's command. It came after a long pause. King Lucifer seemed as though he was lost in thought. Or maybe just trying to devise an intricate idea.

"You are aware of my step-son," the King said finally. "Are you not?"

Sam's heart wound its way up his throat. He swallowed hard before answering. "Yes, sire."

The King sighed, rubbing at his forehead with a white hand. "I have had too many problems with him as of late. Take him far into the forest. Find some secluded glade where he can pick wildflowers."

Though the King's words were kind, Sam couldn't help but feel troubled. But he replied, "Yes, your Majesty," nonetheless.

The King continued, "And there, my faithful Huntsman, you will kill him."

Sam stepped back in shock, his breath stilling in his throat. "But, your Majesty, the Prince!" he heard himself cry.

Lucifer stood up swiftly, "Silence!" he yelled.

Sam could feel his courage shrinking in on itself. This was bad.

"You know the penalty if you fail," the King said, sternly.

Sam stopped for a moment, then felt his bravery curl up and disappear. He bowed and said: "Yes, your Majesty."

The King looked at him with displeasure. "But to make doubly sure you do not fail," the King reached behind him and held out a small, ornate box. "Bring back his heart, in this."


	4. the fields

Castiel woke early the next morning, despite his late night. He couldn't get thoughts of Dean out of his head. He couldn't help the prickling feeling of worry that Dean wouldn't come back to see him after what was said the night before. He decided he would start his chores early to give his mind something else to focus on.

He had just finished getting dressed when there was a quick knock on his door.

Castiel stood still for a moment. He hardly ever got visitors, especially at this hour. He was even more surprised when he opened the door to find the King's Huntsman on the other side. The tall man towered over Castiel, but looked at him apologetically.

Spotting his day clothes, the Huntsman smiled. "Good," he said, "You're awake."

"Yes, I am," Castiel said bluntly.

The Huntsman's smile faltered, but stayed in place. His grin reminded Castiel of someone, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

An uncomfortable silence settled between them before Castiel spoke again, "What do you need, Huntsman? Has the King called for me?"

The man shifted his weight, obviously ill at ease. It set Castiel's teeth on edge. Just because he was the King's disgraced stepson didn't mean anything was wrong with him. Why was this man acting so off in his presence?

"Call me Sam," he said finally. "And the King asked me to accompany outside the walls. He thought you looked a bit down as of late and decided to have someone take you out to the fields."

Castiel looked at the Huntsman with scrutiny. He highly doubted his stepfather had taken any notice of him lately. And if he had, his reaction would not be to send him out of the gates, but to lock him up in the cellar. But Castiel was not going to give up an opportunity such as this. He hadn't been out of the castle walls in a very long time. Castiel was suddenly very aware that it was springtime. The fields would be nothing but wildflowers. His heart soared at the thought. He could find some new seeds for the castle garden. And maybe…maybe he would get some flowers for Dean too.

If Dean came back.

Instantly, Castiel extinguished the thought.

Castiel looked to the Huntsman – Sam – and nodded, "Alright. I am ready then."

He moved to walk out of his chamber, but Sam stepped in his path, a hand held up to stop him.

"You'll want to change," Sam said. "We're going through the town. The King requests you to dress appropriately. And maybe a cloak? It's cold outside."

Castiel eyed him in confusion, but did as he was told.

He emerged a few minutes later in his best set of clothes. He didn't have very many considering his stepfather kept him working in the gardens, but these would do. He pulled uncomfortably at the puffy blue sleeves. The collar was cumbersome at best. This wouldn't have been his first choice, but he had been told if he were to be seen in public, he'd have to be up to the latest customs. And so the seamstress had concocted this and it had sat in his wardrobe for over a year.

Castiel frowned; Dean had never worn puffy sleeves. And neither did Sam, for that matter, and he was employed by the castle! He sighed; it wasn't like he had anything else. He had even added a red cape by the Huntsman's request. It ended probably a little shorter than it should have, but it would do.

Sam eyed his colorful attire for a split second, his hazel eyes lingering longest on the light yellow trousers. But smartly, (which was probably why he was the King's right hand man) he said nothing. The pair of them headed toward the outer gates, Castiel's heart beating faster and faster with each step.

* * *

It was not cold. In fact, Castiel was rather hot in the clothes he had chosen. The cape hung heavily around his neck, but he was having a hard time feeling upset. The fields were beautiful. He had been unable to speak for a moment when they'd finally reached them. Sam had led him to the edge of the far forest, where the flowers grew the tallest. As soon as Castiel was off his horse, he was stepping into the colorful array of blossoms.

Sam stood by the horses, watching Castiel from a distance. Castiel had never liked being accompanied, but with his stepfather's strict rules, there was no way he would be allowed out of sight. If he was to be saddled with anyone, he was glad it was the Huntsman. Though the two had barely talked previously, Castiel found his company to be rather pleasant. The two had made idle chitchat on the way out of town, but soon they settled into a comfortable silence.

As he stepped along the line of the creek, he couldn't help but hum with happiness. He caught sight of a fat bee lazily flying ahead and he slowly began to follow it along the water's edge. Before he realized it, he had started singing the same tune he and Dean had sang together. He stopped for a time, forgetting all about the bee. He knelt down, seeing some gorgeous speckled flowers at his feet. They reminded Castiel distinctively of the other prince's freckles. These were perfect. He pulled them into a small bouquet, the wind brushing back his hair and cape.

He paused his singing when he suddenly heard a bird calling in distress. Castiel set the gathering of flowers down; it could wait. He glanced back at Sam, who was still well within sight, and went in search for the bird.

It wasn't hard. The poor thing was crying with heartache. Castiel found the young chick on a rock all alone, helplessly flapping its wings.

Castiel approached slowly, cooing at the blue bird. It cast a terrified eye on him when he extended his hands, but after some coaxing, it slowly hopped on.

"Hello there," Castiel said, softly. "What's the matter? Where are your parents?"

The bird chirped forlornly, hopping to and fro across Castiel's palms.

"Why, I believe you're lost." Unfortunately, Castiel knew very well what it was like to miss your parents. He had never met his father, killed in battle. But his mother…his mother he missed every day. "Please don't cry," Castiel said when the chick continued his desperate tweets.

But while Castiel was cheering up the small bird, the Huntsman was drawing closer.

"Come on. Perk up," Castiel said, standing to his feet. "Your mother and father can't be too far."

The bird chirped some more and as Castiel lifted it into the air he heard another answer its call.  
"There they are!" Castiel cried, lifting the chick as high as he could and pointing into the tree above. "Can you fly?"

The bird hopped around on his hand for another moment and then took off into the trees.

"Goodbye," Castiel called after it, "Goodbye!"

Castiel moved to turn around and finish his bouquet when a dark shadow fell across him. He looked up in confusion, for it was far too early for dusk. But as he lifted his gaze he cried out in shock. The Huntsman stood before him, knife drawn and up, ready for blood. There was an anger in the man's eyes. Something Castiel would never have guessed could replace the softness that had been there before. He stepped back, the heel of his boot catching on a rock. Castiel stumbled to the ground, the Huntsman coming nearer and nearer each second. He tried to crawl away, scraping his palm for his effort, but his back hit a rock and he was trapped.

There was no way out. He was stuck. He was going to die out here. For a fraction of time Castiel thought that he couldn't have asked for better. To be killed in the place he loved the most, surrounded by the flowers, free from the reach of the King. But instinct took over and as Sam drew ever closer Castiel threw his hands over his face in a last-ditch effort to protect himself.

Castiel cringed, waiting for the pain, but it didn't come.

Then he heard a soft voice. "I can't," it said, "I can't do it."

Castiel heard something drop lightly to the ground. He slowly opened his eyes.

Sam had dropped his knife and had fallen to his knees. The Huntsman bent over in a bow, his palms in the dirt. "Forgive me!" he said in grief, "I beg of you, Your Highness. Forgive me."

Castiel stood slowly, his mind reeling. "I don't understand," he managed.

Sam looked up quickly, "He's mad! Jealous of you!" he said. "He'll stop at nothing!"

"But—but who?" Castiel said, too distraught to even think straight.

"The King!" the Huntsman exclaimed.

Castiel echoed the words back to him, frozen in confusion.

"Now, quick! Run!"

Castiel blinked.

"Run away! Hide!"

Castiel could only stutter, too many questions stuck on his tongue to get anything out. He stepped back, the Huntsman pushing him towards the trees.

"In the woods!" he yelled, "Anywhere! Never come back!"

Castiel leapt back in a panic and stumbled into the underbrush.

The beautiful flowers Castiel had picked out for Dean lay crushed at Sam's feet.


End file.
